


Mad Like Me

by AleraRose



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Arguing, argument, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleraRose/pseuds/AleraRose
Summary: Victoria is fuming after her discussion with Bertie and takes it out on Albert. Takes place after 3x06, so mild spoilers ahead!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A new day, a new fanfic. :) After watching the latest episode, I've been thinking about the argument between Victoria and Albert and how she went directly to comforting Bertie, so I've been imagining what could have unfolded after that. I think I could easily make a part 2 for this, but, of course, let me know your thoughts (maybe part 2 is a silly idea!), but I hope you enjoy the fic below.
> 
> And as a reminder, I don't own any of the character presented in this show. I'm literally just a fan with nothing to do in the evenings except write.

Victoria's hands were balled into fists as she went to find her husband. Her heart was pounding and her head was reeling and it was taking everything in her power to not knock over everything in her path. The mirror she saw? She wanted to rip it from the wall. The bust? She wanted to push it off its stand. The anger she felt coursed through her, and the longer she looked around, the more she wanted to scream.

"Albert!"

She knew it was unbecoming, shouting for your husband in a palace corridor where anyone could hear it. For once, though, she didn't care. United front be damned. The servants could talk. She was on the warpath, and she wasn't going to calm down until she got this out.

She found him in his study. "Get out!" she yelled at the servant. "Now!" He did as he was told. With the door closed, Victoria turned to her husband. His face was still red from where she'd struck him. If the circumstances were different, she would have felt bad about it--she would have begged him for forgiveness--but, with Bertie's expression rolling through her mind, she told herself:

She would have done it again.

Only, this time, she would have used for force.

"Victoria, I can't right now."

He sounded tired. She didn't care.

"We need to talk."

"We just did." He wasn't looking at her. "I told you everything I need for you to know. You did, too."

"This is something else."

"Then it can wait."

"No," she told him, "no, it can't. Albert, you go on and on about protecting this family, but you're just as guilty as I am for tearing it apart."

It was only then that he looked up. A mixture of hurt and confusion and displeasure crossed his face. "I do not understand."

"Of course you don't. You're too busy pointing fingers at everyone around you for you to get off that high horse."

"What?"

"You son thinks you hate him, you know." Saying it aloud made her heart ache. She nodded as she spoke, gaining steam. "All of the things you're subjecting him to--the tutor, the doctor--you're ruining a perfectly good boy."

"Victoria--"

But she was only getting started. "You've been so focused on molding him to your own standards that you can't even tell that everything you're doing is breaking him!"

"I don't think--"

She started to pace. "You don't think it's true? You should ask him." Her blood was boiling. As he sat there at his desk, she wanted to strangle him. It was an odd thing, she realized. When she'd first given birth to Vicky, she'd never understood a mother's anger--she always assumed the most she'd ever be was indifferent--but now, having held her broken child as he cried, she could have committed murder and not given it a second thought.

She didn't know how long she'd held Bertie. People had passed--none of them speaking out--and her body had ached from the position, but neither of those had been important. She knew she wasn't the best mother and that she didn't always have the best answers, but all she'd wanted was to comfort him. She'd wanted her son to feel wanted and cherished. She'd wanted him to feel loved.

The sight of her broken son had nearly broken her.

Albert didn't say anything. Something flashed over his eyes that she didn't recognize as he looked around the room. He still wasn't meeting her eyes. He was acting like a coward, she thought, afraid of what she might do next.

Good.

"I think," he finally said, taking another pause, "that you are over-reacting."

"Damn it Albert, call me mad if you must, but I will not let you drive my son into lunacy! You can say I'm mad, but do not say that he is mad like me! You say that I am over-confident? I would say that I am a queen, but, fine, I cannot change how you feel. I've tried for all of these years, but you're set in your way. But to say my son is the same, in what capacity?" He didn't respond. "In what capacity, Albert?"

He knew he had to answer. "It is just that the both of you... You do not seek guidance. You do not seek help."

"If I need guidance, I will ask for it. If I need help, I will ask for it. And as for my son, if he ever needs help and doesn't come to me, I pray to God that he doesn't come running to you. Shall we talk about the last time you helped him?" She noticed Albert's jaw clench. "Fine, I'll take your silence as a yes.

"You brought in a tutor, Albert, one from Eaton." He flinched at her voice. "Everyone goes on at Eaton and yet you brought that man into this house. Sure, Bertie learned a thing, or two, but at what cost?"

Albert brought his hand up to his mouth. Again, he looked away from her. "If you're suggesting I knew."

"Then there was the doctor. Well, that was clearly just to bully him. You didn't have the doctor look at yourself. You didn't have him look at Vicky. Goodness, even I wasn't examined, and I'm mad as dear grandfather, aren't I?"

Albert's eyes were starting to water. "I was only trying to help," he said, his voice weak.

"Now you've a son who's convinced his father no longer feels love for him. I understand what he is going through, Albert, but how does that make you feel? You've convinced the heir to the throne--your legacy--that he's worthless." She paused. "That is something you get to take credit for all on your own."

She stopped pacing and exhaled. She was done. She felt faint and she wobbled a bit, but she'd gotten her point across and she knew it had worked. Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins as she stood there, silently daring him to refute any of it. She knew that he couldn't, though, and, for that, it felt like a small victory.

"Maybe I should talk to him." Albert's voice was breaking. "I don't want him to think--he's is my first son--of course I--He needs to understand--"

But she didn't let him finish. "You'll not go near him. He's too fragile right now."

"You can't tell me not to see my own son."

"I just did. Please do not make me command it." There was panic in his eyes but it didn't even register with her. "From now on, Bertie is my responsibility. His education, his studies on the monarchy, it will all be decided by me. After all, I'll have the best input. No one else in this palace knows how to run a country. No one else has the experience."

"I need to speak with him."

"You need to leave him alone." Nothing left to say, she turned for the door. "I mean it, Albert." She walked out into the hall. "Leave him alone."

Without another word, she slammed the door behind her. For a moment, she stood there, contemplating if she'd gone to far. After all, she didn't blame him for the situation with the tutor. However, in the end, she decided that she didn't care.

Bertie was hurting.

She was hurting.

Why shouldn't Albert feel the same?


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria continues to prevent Albert from speaking to Bertie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back with part 2! Plot twist? I think I'll need a part 3 to finish this up. :) Thanks for the reads, kudos, and comments--it means a lot to me.
> 
> I'm sure you know this at this point, but I don't own any of the character in this fic. I'm just a little bit too obsessed with his series and can't contain myself.

"Bertie, I wonder if you'll play a game of chess with your Mama?"

Victoria looked around the room. Both Vicky and Bertie were seated, the eldest more engrossed in the book she was reading that her brother. Victoria had only been in the room for ten seconds, yet she already knew it: Bertie was restless. She could see it in his face and by the way that he held the book. Both of them looked upon hearing her voice, both surprised by her presence.

She couldn't blame them. After all, it wasn't like she went out of her way to seek them. Most of the time she was too busy. It was a sacrifice, one that everyone understood. At least, she hoped her children understood--especially Bertie. One day this would be all too familiar for him.

"Me?"

Victoria smiled at the surprise in his voice. She nodded.

"Wouldn't you rather play with Vicky?"

"I asked you. Do you not wish to?"

"No, it's just that..." His face scrunched up. "Papa never wants to play with me. He wants to play with Vicky."

"Well, I'm not Papa, am I?" Going over to the chess board, Victoria sat down. She moved the pieces, setting up the board. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her eldest son. She could tell that he was debating it, wondering if this was some sort of joke. She didn't say anything to him, but patiently waited for him to join.

She had a bit of free time right now. All morning and the most of the afternoon, she'd been meeting with various diplomats. The conversations had been successful, if not terribly dull. Still, she wouldn't be needed for the rest of the day, and if her son needed to take some time, she could at least afford him that small luxury.

Eventually, he found his way over to her. He stared at the chair for a moment before taking a seat. "But I'm not very good at chess."

"Then we shall be equally matched," she told him. "You start."

For the next couple of minutes, the two played in silence. A couple of times, Victoria could have bested him, but, knowing that he needed to have his confidence repaired, she made a few clumsy moves, allowing him to outdo her.

"Mama, you really are terrible," he said, giggling.

"Yes." She smiled. "I suppose I am."

Their laughter subsided a moment later when Albert joined the room. Both Victoria and Bertie stiffened when he came in; Vicky gave him a polite hello but remained focused on her book.

Victoria remained calm as he walked over. He stood next to them cautiously, staring down at the board.

"What is going on here?" he asked.

"I'm besting Mama," Bertie told him.

"Is that so?" Albert reviewed the board. "So you are. If you would just move--" He started to point, but Bertie stopped him.

"It's alright, Papa. I do not require assistance." He made his move on his own, and Victoria had to choke back a laugh.

Albert ignored her. Focusing on his son, he said, "Perhaps I may play the winner?"

"This game might take some time," Victoria told him, not looking up.

"Then perhaps I might take your spot now?"

"No." Finally, she looked up. Her expression was cold as she set boundaries with the tone of her voice. Albert did not like playing chess with Bertie--or any games, he'd told her several times--but, now, he was suddenly interested?

To say the last, the past couple of days had been hard on him. Victoria knew he was struggling, but, really, it had been self-imposed. Albert had given up on Bertie, and Victoria had given up on Albert's ability as a father. Besides, he still had the other children. There was nothing stopping him with bonding with Vicky, as he so often did.

Albert's jaw clenched. "Are you sure you have the... Time for the children, right now?"

"I have all the time in the world, as it stands." What, was he suddenly jealous? "I have been assured that I will not be disturbed for the rest of the day." She turned back to the board. "Bertie, I do believe it is your turn." As she waited for him, she turned back to her husband. When she did, she noticed how distraught he looked. To anyone else, they probably would have picked up on it--it would have escaped even their children, if they weren't paying attention--but Victoria had known him for many years now. He knew every one of his expressions. Intimately.

His completion was flush. His eyes were slightly widened, staring off into nothingness. His jaw was clenched and his shoulders tense. Yes, to anyone else, he would have just looked deep in thought. But for Victoria, she knew better.

And, deep down, she was beginning to regret this. He didn't have to say how remorseful he was for her to know it. But she was too far gone to simply leave it be. Albert had hurt Bertie deeply, and he had to pay the price.

It was what she reminded herself as Bertie finally moved his piece. Instead of reaching for the board, she said, "Some fresh air would be nice, wouldn't it?"

Never able to keep his mind on one thing for too long, Bertie readily agreed. Victoria told him to ready himself, and, as he raced out of the room, her eyes remained trained on the board. Calmly, she waited for Albert to speak.

"If you insist on me not seeing my own children unaccompanied, may I at least join you for your walk?"

"Unaccompanied? Ive said no such thing." As she recalled, she'd told Albert to stay away from Bertie entirely, accompanied or not.

Slowly, she rose. Looking down to her hands as she smoothed out her dress, she told him, "Besides, darling, you do not look well." She looked up. Ever aware that Vicky was still in the room, she feigned concern in her voice. "Shall I fetch a doctor?"

He didn't answer.

"No? Then I recommend lying down. You could use the rest."

It was a line people had used on her hundreds of times over.

As she passed Vicky, she heard her daughter say, "Is Papa ill?"

Victoria paused, glancing at Albert out of the corner of her eye. "No, darling," she said after a moment. "He's just gotten a bit of bad news. Please be very mindful over the next couple of days, and do not disturb him, alright?" Vicky nodded. "Enjoy your book." She headed towards the door.

"Victoria."

Her back was already towards him; she stopped in the doorway. By habit, she started to turn, but before she'd fully looked over her shoulder, she stopped herself. With a deep breath, she continued walking, pretending like she hadn't even heard him at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's currently past 1:30 in the morning and I cannot sleep. Yesterday I was told that I'll be losing my job. Writing this has been a great distraction. I've only had this account for a few weeks, but you can't imagine just how much your comments/ kudos/ bookmarks mean to me. When I was younger, writing fanfiction was a great way to pass the time. A few years later, I guess some things never change. So thank you, very much, for welcoming me into this community.
> 
> Also, I have a few more fics in the pipe that I plan on uploading over the next couple of days. Don't worry; they'll be fluffy. We all need a bit of happiness after that season/series finale.
> 
> Finally, I don't own the character listed in this fic. I'm just a fan that doesn't have a social life who likes to write.
> 
> Enjoy!

Victoria was getting ready for bed when she heard the door crack open. She was seated in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection. Thinking the maid had forgotten something, she didn't bother to turn around. It was only when the door closed that she looked away from the mirror, saying,

"Did you forgot--"

She froze. Standing before her was Albert, not the maid. Taken off guard, she gripped the back of her seat.

He took a step forward. Victoria stiffened, but prayed that it didn't show. "May I speak with you?" His voice was soft, barely audible.

Victoria turned back around. "It is late," she told him, grabbing her brush. She pretended to ready herself for bed.

"It will not take long."

She looked down at the table. As she sat there, trying her best to be calm, her heart was pounding. Her stomach began to knot up. Albert hadn't been in her bedroom in several evenings. He'd spent is nights in his own quarters, away from her. At first, Victoria had welcomed it. But the longer it had gone on, the more restless her nights had become. Not that she'd ever admit it to him (or even herself), but she was beginning to crave his touch.

So why was his mere presence making her nervous?

She stood. "I need to get to sleep. I have a long day tomorrow." Not looking at him, she walked by him. She didn't get far, though, for he reached for her arm. His touch was gentle, yet commanded her to stay put.

He let go.

"I think we should talk."

"I cant imagine that we have anything to discuss." Ever so stubborn, she told him, "I have nothing to say to you, and whatever you have to say to me can wait until morning."

"You are being unreasonable."

"Those who are mad tend to do that." Her voice was cold, causing Albert to sign.

"I did not come to quarrel."

"Then you shouldn't have come at all, for that's all we seem to do these days." She wasn't looking at him. Her head was high and her posture stiff, her refusal to be vulnerable.

"Can we just...talk for five minutes without you putting on airs?"

"Putting on airs?" She spun around. "Why is it that everything-- _entirely everything_ \--is my fault? Cannot you not, for once, accept that maybe some of this is your doing?" Albert said nothing. Victoria's voice was quiet yet rushed, threatening to give her away. "You have hurt Bertie, Albert. You, not me."

"And I have hurt you, as well." Taking aback by his admission, Victoria didn't know what to say. As he continued, her eyes widened. "I know that now. I should--" He sighed heavily. "I should treat you with the love and respect you deserve. You are my wife, but you are also my queen." He blinked, looking away. "I have behaved deplorably."

Victoria stared at him. Even in the dimness of the room--the only lights coming from the fireplace and a couple of candles--she noticed something that was undeniable:

Albert was on the verge of tears.

The last time she'd seen him this vulnerable was when he'd admitted the truth about Leopold. All at once, her guard fell down.

"I should talk to you about things. We never talk anymore. I just..." He exhaled.

"What things?" she whispered.

"All things. We do not talk as we used to. I should consult you about Bertie."

It was true; it was the one thing she'd wanted all along. Albert expected her to be completely committed it their children's lives but made it impossible for her to give input? Certainly he had to see how contradictory that was.

"And I should not... I should not make you feel like you are losing you mind. It's just that... I worry." He was struggling to keep his voice level. "I want you--I want our entire family--to be healthy and happy. That is all. But maybe I have made matters worse, and that, I confess, is unforgivable." He cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose this is all I wanted to say. I'll take my leave. You deserve a peaceful night's sleep." Adding nothing more, he turned.

Victoria watched him go. He had opened the door and was through the doorway when she decided to call for him. "Albert, wait." She raced over to him. Despite barely being able to see him due to the darkness, she looked up, trying her best to meet his eyes. He wasn't looking at her.

As she stood there, her heart hammered. The silence was louder than a thousand canons, and she felt herself shaking. Throughout their marriage, Victoria had considered Albert her equal. In public affairs she of course was his better, but, behind closed doors, they were the same, just two people trying to make a marriage work. Why, then, did she feel so small now?

She did her best to form her words. "It us true that you have hurt me, but this isn't the first time. I understand that I do not always meet your needs as a wife, but you must also knowledge that you do not always meet my needs as a price.

"But we are united," she continued, "and all the better for it. I thought you were used to my... Emotions, if that's what you'd like to call it. I am used to yours. But there is one person who is not yet strong enough to take your criticisms, and that person is Bertie. And he is a child."

She waited for him to say something but continued when he didn't.

"The world will be cruel to him soon enough. It will not be as cruel as it is to me, but, in the eyes of the papers, an adorable prince today is a deplorable king tomorrow. I do not wish to crush him. His parents should not be the cause of his broken spirit, and we have a duty to make sure he is happy. That is all."

"But should we not also ensure that he is educated and ready for the world."

"His tutors will take care of that." Having said all she needed to say, Victoria felt her body relax. It was like sh'ed said all that she needed to say, her anxiety and anger finally released from her body. "Albert, perhaps we can continue this in the morning? The two of us will sit down with Bertie and figure out what we should do." Her body swayed slightly.

I am tired. And pregnant."

" _Liebes_ , the baby, I--! This stress on you--!"

"It is alright." She could hear the worry in his voice. "This isn't the first argument we've had while I'm with child." She frowned. "I've grown quite accustomed to it." She didn't feel comfortable admitting it, but truth was truth. "I would like to go to bed now," she said.

"Of course. I shall see you for breakfast, then?"

"You are not staying here tonight?"

An awkward silence feel between them. Albert was not one to force Victoria to spend her evenings with him, marriage or not, and she knew he wasn't about to ask right now. However, she didn't care. This conversation was far from over, but this was a treaty, an agree to cease hostilities for the time being.

"For Heaven's sake. I am going to bed, and you're joining. End of discussion." Albert said nothing, but Victoria could have sworn she heard a soft chuckle.

"Is that a command, then?" he whispered a few seconds later.

"Only if it needs to be."

Not waiting, she turned. She got into bed, smoothing out the duvet as she waited. Less than thirty seconds later, she heard Albert's footsteps, stopping at the foot of the bed.

"Albert?"

"You know that I love you, don't you?"

She frowned. "What a silly question."

"Victoria, it is important to me. I need to know."

"Yes. Yes, of course i know. And I hope that understanding is mutual."

Albert sad nothing. Instead, he got into the bed, pulled the duvet over them, pulled their bodies close, and kissed her temple. "Good night, _liebes_."

"Good night."


End file.
